This Too Shall Pass
by i'll.be.your.sky
Summary: Follows Jack's rough transition into the Mercer family as he struggles to find the right path in a world full of lonliness and doubt.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** This Too Shall Pass  
**Summary:** Follow's Jack's rough transition into the Mercer family.  
**Warnings: language, violence  
Author's Note:** I've had the idea to write this for a while, but I've been to busy to actually do it. I've finally gotten the first chapter down and I'm in the process of writing the second. Unfortunately, writer's block decided it wanted to become my new best friend, so if you guys like this story feel free to leave reviews on ideas of where you want it to go next!

PS- For those who aren't sure, this story is written from Jack's point of view and takes place before the movie. **Jack is about thirteen years old.**

Enjoy!

**THIS TOO SHALL PASS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

I sat on the back porch, breathing in the fresh air as the gentle night breeze blew across the littered lawn. These back steps had been my safe-haven ever since I can remember. Mom and Dad kept the house reeking of smoke and alcohol, and out here I didn't feel as suffocated.

The wind blew again, except this time it was stronger and much colder. I pulled my knees close to my chest to find warmth, but it didn't do much good. I sighed, wishing my dad hadn't ripped and bloodied the new sweatshirt my mom had just given me for my birthday.

I rested my head on my knees and closed my eyes, taking in the sounds of the night. The wind rustling the leaves, the crickets chirping, the glass shattering... I flinched slightly at the sound. I actually thought that maybe I would get a few moments of quiet.

I heard the sound of more glass breaking I could already tell what was happening. Dad was probably drunk again. And he was probably fighting with Mom again. And Mom was probably in tears again.

And here I was sitting on the steps again, sadly listening to the exchange of harsh words accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. For a while I just ignored it, pretended like it wasn't really happening, but the noise kept getting louder and louder and I couldn't just sit there and do nothing anymore.

I opened the door and walked into the battlefield, coughing slightly from the thick cloud of smoke.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to talking to me like that?!"

"I'm sick of your shit, Brian! I'm taking Jack and I'm finally getting the fuck out of here."

She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him before forcefully slapping her across the face. She cried out in pain, but that only made him madder. He kept hitting her, each blow getting more and more powerful.

I started to yell at the top of my lungs for him to stop, but it didn't do much good. He still wouldn't stop.

Mom fell to the ground and I could see her blood seeping onto the carpet. She had stopped screaming, stopped resisting, stopped fighting.

I had to do something, _anything _to make him stop. I ran to their bedroom and began fumbling through Dad's drawers, looking for the gun I knew he kept.

"Damnit, where is it?" I was starting to panic, but I kept digging, throwing everything out of the drawer in hopes of revealing its location.

It wasn't there. Why wasn't it there? Dad _always _kept it in the same place.

Then I heard it. There was no mistaking the sound. I ran back out into the living room in just enough time to see my dad standing over my mom, the gun still pointed at her chest. I watched in horror as he pulled the trigger again, and again.

And when the shots finally stopped, he turned and looked it at me, as if noticing me for the first time. He smiled, the most sickening smile I'd ever seen in my life, and he pointed the gun straight at my chest.

All I could do was stand there and watch him. He was going to kill me.

I wasn't going to stop him.

"DO IT!" I was starting to get hysterical now. Tears were streaming down my face and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Shoot me! Please! I don't want to live anymore." The sobs were making my whole body shake.

His smile broadened, and he raised the gun higher.

"I'm going to send you straight to Hell, just like your mom."

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

There were no more bullets.

My legs gave way and I found myself on the floor, screaming and begging God to bring her back. She was the only thing that had ever mattered in my life, and I didn't know how I was going to go on without her there by my side.

I could vaguely hear Dad shouting in the background for me to "shut up," but I didn't care anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to make myself believe that I was still sitting on the back porch, enjoying the fresh air. I pulled my knees tight to my chest and started rocking myself back and forth. I don't know how long I stayed like that, or who called the cops, all I know is that I heard the sirens, and saw the blue and red flashing lights outside the window, and felt someone scooping me off the floor. They kept telling me that everything was okay now, and that I was safe, but I didn't care.

I didn't want things to be okay, I didn't want to be safe. I'd rather be dead.

They took me to the hospital and the doctors asked me some questions, but I didn't answer them. They took pictures of every bruise and cut on my body, and I didn't try to hide them like I used to. I heard them muttering in the corner to the people that brought me here.

"_...signs of sexual and physical abuse..."_

"_...emergency foster home placement..."_

And when we left the hospital a few hours later they took me to a house. I remember how warm it felt and how nice the white-haired lady was. And I remember how for a moment I wished she were my mother, and that I lived in this house with her, and that I never had to go through what I went through to get here.

And for a moment I was glad I wasn't dead, because maybe I could get a new start here, but it passed by just like all the other moments, and I found myself back where I started, wishing I was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed! I finally got an idea of where I wanted this chapter to go so I got it out quicker than I thought. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, and **don't forget to leave a review!  
Warnings: language**

**CHAPTER TWO**

I woke up with a jolt, breathing heavily and sticky from sweat. I felt like I'd been trapped inside of a sick dream for hours and couldn't find my way out. I rubbed my hands over my eyes and looked around my room to see what time it was.

Wait.

This wasn't my room, and these sure as hell weren't my clothes. I scrambled out of bed to look out the window. This wasn't my neighborhood...

There was a knock at the door and I almost jumped out of my skin.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah?"

The door opened and a familiar-looking woman entered the room. "Jack, there's some breakfast down in the kitchen. I figured you might want to come down and meet the boys, too."

I looked at her confused. She definitely wasn't my mother.

"You okay, sweetheart? You look a little pale." She frowned slightly at my bewildered expression.

"Yeah... It's just, I..." And then it all seemed to hit me at once. Some people brought me here last night, after my dad... I didn't even want to think about the rest. No, this woman wasn't my mother. She was Evelyn Mercer, single, adopted mother of three.

I felt what was left of the color in my cheeks drain from my face as a sudden coldness surrounded my body. How could I have forgotten last night? I guess I was so out of it by the time I got here that anything could have happened to me and I probably wouldn't have cared.

I looked up, suddenly remembering that Ms. Mercer was still looking at me from the doorway.

I cleared my throat again. "Yeah, I'll come down."

She smiled. "Good, the boys have been waiting to meet you."

I followed down her down the stairs and into the kitchen where her three sons were already sitting at the table. Angel introduced himself first. He was average height and very muscular with dark brown skin with a short haircut. He was wearing baggy jeans and a wife-beater, and a silver chain hung loosely from his neck.

Jerry was the second one to introduce himself. He was tall and thin and wore more fitted jeans than Angel and a dark blue t-shirt that was neatly tucked in.

Last was Bobby. I could quickly tell he was the oldest. There was a certain cockiness in the way he presented himself that would let anyone know he was the one in charge. His baggy, light blue jeans had several rips and holes in them and his over-sized white t-shirt gave him an intimidating look.

I sat down at the table with them and Evelyn set a full plate of food in front of me. The sight of it made my stomach turn a little. I'd never seen so much food in my life. I looked around the table and saw that everyone else was already halfway done with their plate of food, but I couldn't bring myself to eat what was placed in front of me.

"What's the matter, Jack? Don't like pancakes?" Bobby asked curiously.

I shook my head. "No, it's just... I've never had them before."

They all looked at me in disbelief and I felt my cheeks burn slightly with embarrassment.

"Man, you don't know what you're missin," Angel said as he shoved another bite in his mouth.

"Yeah, Ma makes the best homemade pancakes I've ever tasted," Jerry added.

"Thank you, dear," Evelyn answered, smiling as she began to wash the dirty dishes in the sink.

I couldn't help but feel out of place. Everything was so different here. I wasn't used to having full meals, or everyone eating as a family without yelling and screaming. It seemed like I was finally in the perfect world that I'd been dreaming about ever since I can remember, but now that I was finally here I felt like something was missing, like I couldn't fully be happy here.

I took a small bite of the food placed in front of me, but it all seemed to taste like metal, and after a few more bites I couldn't bring myself to eat anymore of it.

Bobby was still eyeing me curiously. "No wonder you're so damn skinny. You don't eat nothin."

Evenly gave him 'The Look' from across the kitchen. "Bobby, don't be rude."

"I was just sayin."

"Can I be excused?" I wasn't sure why, but I was getting more and more uneasy and I needed to get away.

Evelyn looked at me with the same concern in her eyes as before. "Sure, sweetheart. I'll leave your plate in the refrigerator if you want it later."

I thanked her and headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom. I paused around the corner when I heard them beginning to talk once they thought I was out of earshot.

"You guys need to be gentle with him, he's going through a lot."

"I could never imagine seeing my mother killed. And by my own dad, too. Damn, that's fucked up."

"Don't worry, Ma. We'll look out for him. Nothing bad is going to happen to him as long as we're around."

"I sure hope you're right. It's going to be a messy ride for all of us. The police want him to testify in his

Dad's murder trial. Not to mention we've got a funeral to plan for his mother."

I stopped listening at the mention of my mom and continued down the hall to the bedroom. I closed the door gently behind me and collapsed onto the bed. My mind was racing. A funeral _and_ a murder trial? I didn't know if I could handle all of this. No amount of closure could bring my mom back, and no amount of justice could put all the hate I had for my father to rest.

There was a numb feeling growing in my chest that I couldn't seem to shake. I freshly remember how I used to block things out the best I could when my dad was having his way with me, but back then I had some type of control over it, like I could turn it on and off, but right now it was different. I couldn't control the white cloud that was slowly taking over my vision; and I couldn't control the roaring sound that was in my ears and blocking out all other sound; and I couldn't control the fact that my arms and legs were starting to go completely numb.

But I could control the fact that I eagerly welcomed the increasing dead sensation. Right now, _anything_ was better than feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Another big thanks to everyone who reviewed!  
**Warnings:** language, drug use

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**Chapter Three **

I don't know what exactly it was that brought me back to reality, but I do know that when I finally came around I wished I could get the dead feeling back. My head was throbbing painfully and my body was stiff from staying in the same position for so long.

I sighed and began rubbing my temples.I heard a burst of laughter come from downstairs and I smiled slightly. It was a sound I normally only heard on the television, and it was nice to actually hear the real thing. But my smile faded as the lonely feeling in my chest grew. They were already a family, and who was I to come in and suddenly become a part of it too?

I looked over at the window. I could always just leave. Climb out the window and never look back. But what good would that do? I'd probably end up dead somewhere.

But I didn't really care.

I put on my shoes and grabbed a jacket that had been thoughtlessly discarded in the closet. I walked over to the window and unlatched it, looking out to see how I would get down. Luckily, it wasn't that far of a drop, so I climbed out, careful not to slip, and cautiously made my way down the side of the house.

I landed on the ground with a soft thud. _That wasn't so bad_, I thought, brushing the dirt off my hands before shoving them deep into the pockets of the jacket I'd just stolen. I looked behind me to make sure no one had noticed my escape and began walking down the sidewalk. I didn't have any money for food or shelter, and I sure as hell didn't know where I was going.

But I still didn't really care.

I was always good at running away. Confrontation wasn't really my thing. If I could avoid it, I would. And right now I didn't want to have to deal with all the shit that was being thrown my way. So the way I saw it, now was as good a time as any to get the hell out.

I wondered how long it would take for them to notice I was gone. With any luck I'd get a good head start if they did decide to come looking for me.

I walked for hours. Going everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Before long the sun started to go down and the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. I zipped up my jacket all the way to the top and began looking for a place I could sleep in for the night. I eventually found a large abandoned factory building whose interior was run down and smelled of rotting trash and cigarettes, but it would have to do.

The streetlights shined dully through the cracked windows, giving off enough light to barely make my way around.

As I began looking for a somewhat clean area to sit down, I wondered how many homeless people had taken shelter here. I stepped over an unidentifiable substance on the ground and tripped over a large object that I hadn't seen, falling rather ungracefully onto the filthy floor.

"Jesus Christ!" a deep voice called out in the darkness. "You kicked me in my fucking stomach."

"S-sorry," I stuttered, caught off guard. I quickly stood up and could make out a guy a little older than me lying on the floor. His clothes were dirty and his hair was disheveled and unkempt.

He took a good look at my face. "You lost or something?"

I shook my head. "No, I-I was looking for a place to sleep."

"Well I guess you found one." He changed into an upright position, resting his back against the crumbling brick wall. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "I'm Craig," he said, introducing himself as he blew out a stream of smoke.

He didn't seem like he was planning to hurt me, so I sat down next to him. "I'm Jack."

He extended the pack of cigarettes in his hand in my direction. "Want a smoke?"

"No thanks."

He put the pack back into his pocket. "So what brings you to this humble abode?"

"I ran away."

He nodded and played with the lighter in his hand, flicking the flame on and off. "So what's your story, huh? Your pops beat on you or something?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," I said, shaking my head a little.

He smirked. "It always is."

I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes tightly. The throbbing headache I had when I left the house still hadn't gone away and now that I was sitting still I was more aware of the pain.

Craig looked over at me. "You sick or something? You don't look so good."

I rubbed my temples, hoping to help ease the discomfort. "Just a headache."

He nodded. "Want something to take the edge off?"

"What, like Advil or something?"

He laughed lightly and shook his head. "No... Something a little stronger than that." He pulled out a small plastic bag that contained a fine white powder from the backpack that stood idly next to him.

"What is it?" I could tell it was some type of drug, but I didn't know enough about them to know its name based off its look.

"Doesn't matter. You want it or not?"

I eyed the bag nervously. If I took it, who knows what could happen. If I didn't, I was right where I started: lonely, desperate, and sitting in a rotting building with a guy I didn't even know. I really had nothing to lose.

I looked up at him. "You said it'll take the edge off?"

"Man, this stuff will take you so high you'll never come down," he said, smiling slightly.

I nodded. "Okay."

He dug through his backpack and took out a black bag. He took out a small piece of foil and poured the powder onto it, mixing it with some liquid. He then poured the new mixture onto the tip of a spoon.

"Here," he said, taking a belt out of the black bag and tossing it to me. "Tie that around your arm."

I did as I was told as he continued preparing the mixture, putting the lighter underneath the tip of the spoon until it began to boil, then taking a syringe a pulling as much of the drug into the container as possible.

"It's ready." He took my arm and began feeling around for a vein and put the needle up to my skin. "You ready?"

I nodded. "Yeah." It didn't really occur to me that I could overdose and die on the spot. And it didn't really occur to me that I could catch HIV or Hepatitis. And it sure as hell didn't occur to me that I could become an addict.

My focus changed as I felt the needle pierce my skin and the liquid drain from the syringe directly into my vein. I didn't care that my heart was pumping way too fast in my chest. And I didn't care that I was sweating despite the cold temperature. And I didn't care that I could barely think straight.

All I cared about was the since of euphoria I was in, and prayed that it would never go away.

**Meanwhile at the Mercer house... **

"Bobby, will you run upstairs and tell Jack that dinner is ready," Evelyn asked as she placed the final dish onto the table.

"Yeah." He got up from his position on the couch and made his way up to the guest room and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Jack, dinner's ready."

There was no answer.

He knocked again. "Jack open up. Dinner's ready."

There was still no answer. Now that he thought of it, Jack hadn't made a sound, much less been out of his room, since breakfast.

"I'm coming in. You better not be naked." He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks. It was empty, and the window was wide open, allowing the cold night air to rush inside. He looked around. There was no note, no nothing. He was just gone.

"Shit." He ran down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Ma!"

She took one look at Bobby's expression and immediately knew something was wrong. "What is it?"

"It's Jack... he's gone."

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**_And that concludes chapter three! Don't forget to review!_**


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